


The Founding of Doriath

by KayleeArafinwiel



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 23:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5890075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/KayleeArafinwiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day during the Years of the Trees, some of the residents of Doriath stray outside the Girdle...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Founding of Doriath

**Author's Note:**

> All these characters, except the Steward and the King (who is mentioned in passing) are mine and Emma's OCs, and will have varying degrees of importance later in our series known on AO3 as The Iathrim Chronicles, the story of Thranduil's family before Thranduil, the Sindar of Doriath. Barandir is about 4, making him not quite 2 in human terms, and Anneth about 20, making her 10 or so in human terms. Atheg and Emig are old Sindarin words for father and mother respectively, used by young children. The Quenya equivalents would be Atya and Emya,diminutives of Atto and Amme respectively.

“You are a fool.” Luindir, son-in-love of Daireth the Seer of Doriath, gave his friend Aearondir a stern look. “You are both fools, if you think wandering outside the Girdle is safe.”

 

 

 

Beldes gave Luindir a measured look. “And yet you not only come with us, Luindir, but you bring your daughter Anneth as well? If you think us such fools, why bring your elfling?”

 

“You brought yours,” was Luindir’s only comment, as he watched them. Perhaps he had been a fool to bring Anneth, but his daughter had wanted to spend time with him, and with her honourary aunt and uncle. He just hadn’t thought they would want to explore outside the bounds set by Bereth Melian… _This is no place for elflings,_ he thought to himself, though Anneth was fairly independent for her age. It was especially no place for Barandir.

 

Barandir watched the adults with wide eyes that took everything in. Aearondir had thought the boy would grow to fish in the waters of Doriath as he had fished by the Waters of Awakening, but the little boy was fiery, as they had called him, and he knew his own mind. He was afire with the desire to learn anything and everything he could.

 

Beldes stilled suddenly. “Aearondir. Something comes…or someone. I feel it.”

 

Her husband nodded uneasily. He felt it, too. “Luindir, will you watch Bara for us, please?”

 

“Of course,  _gwador._ He is no trouble,” Luindir assured Aearondir, and he watched as his heart-brother disappeared into the trees with Beldes. He kept both eyes on the elflings.

 

There was a scream.  _Beldes!_ He knew something had happened to her, though not what – and with a sinking heart, was equally certain Aearondir was…The thought cut off abruptly as a flock of  _crebain_ swept down upon them, and as they smote themselves upon the ground, a number of tall forms appeared, glistening and rippling with a glow like dark fire. They held Aearondir and Beldes, and Luindir moved between them and the elflings. 

 

“Anneth! Take Bara and go! Run, I will hold them off!”  
  
Anneth ran, holding Barandir, whose mind was racing as fast as Anneth’s feet. The bad ones had his Atheg and Emig, they had them and they would not let them go but Uncle Luindir, his Atheg’s gwador, would help them and they would be all right, they had to be…As they pushed back through the Girdle, Anneth dropped him. He collided with a pair of legs, and wailed with the shock.

“Hold!” A pair of arms swept him up, and Barandir kicked and struggled. “Nay, Little One, I am a friend. Tell me, who art thou? Whose son art thou?”

 

“B-randir…Brandir,” he repeated.

 

“His Adar is Uncle Aearondir,” Anneth put in. “Please, my lord, where is Naneth, I need to tell her…”

“Well met, Brandir, son of Aearondir,” the ellon replied with grave courtesy – he knew Aearondir well enough. “I am Lord Elmo, Steward of Doriath. And your Naneth is Mistress Esteliel, is she not?” Elmo asked, focusing on the young elleth.

 

“Here.” Esteliel gasped, running to meet them. “Oh, iel-nin, pen-neth, where is Luindir?”

 

“Gone,” the tiny elfling sobbed as Esteliel clutched her daughter in her embrace. “Atheg and Emig…gone.”

“It was the Dark Hunter’s servants, Naneth,” Anneth gasped, finally getting it out. “Adar stayed to fight them and told me to take Bara and run.”

 

Elmo held his charge more tightly. “Go,” he commanded his guard, and they went in the direction Barandir – no, _Brandir –_ had indicated while Elmo carried the boy to his brother, the King.

They found Luindir curled on the ground, his feet burned with Dark fire.

 

Of Aearondir and Beldes, there was no sign, then or for many years after.


End file.
